


Glasses

by Soledad



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 20:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soledad/pseuds/Soledad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sergeant Stackhouse asks Dr Radek Zelenka a question. Just a little light-hearted fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glasses

The mess hall of Atlantis, around the time when afternoon coffee might be acquired – if you are _very_ lucky.

"Doctor Z, may I ask you a question?"

Dr. Radek Zelenka, keeper and right-hand man of Atlantis' resident genius, and therefore a _very_ patient man by default, looked up to Sergeant Adam Stackhouse and blinked in surprise.

"Depends on question, Sergeant. What's this about?"

"About your glasses."

"My _glasses_?" Now it was getting a bit weird, even by Pegasus galaxy standards. "Why would you be interested in my glasses?"

"It's not just yours," Stackhouse shifted his weight from one leg to the other uncomfortably. "It's just… me and the other Marines were wondering… why is it that none of your eggh… I mean you _scientists_ are wearing contact lenses. Wouldn't they be, you know, more… efficient?"

Zelenka ignored the half-spoken _egghead_ remark. After all, he and his fellow scientists also called the Marines _jarheads_ – not to mention Dr. McKay's much more colourful and inventive nicknames for them.

The question, however, amused him for some reason.

"All right, Sergeant, I'll share big secret with you," he said, grinning. "There are several reasons, actually. One: contact lenses are high maintenance. They need special fluid, special storage box, special everything. You simply clean your glasses with piece of cloth; your sleeve, the hem of your shirt, anything."

Stackhouse nodded. That sounded logical. But Zelenka wasn't finished yet.

"Two: when you're wearing contact lenses, you can't rub your eyes," he continued.

"And that's important?" Stackhouse was completely bewildered now and wished he hadn't volunteered to gather this small piece of information about glasses. Old drill sergeants had warned him _not_ to volunteer for _anything_ for a good reason.

" _Very_ important," Zelenka told him, so utterly serious that everyone who was a bit less guileless than Stackhouse would have realized that he was pulling their leg. "It helps thinking; besides, if you spend much time in badly-lit labs, eyes start itching uncontrollably. But," he added, raising his forefinger dramatically, "most important reason is that glasses give you distinguished, academic look. Which is crucial when you have to deal with people who have ego of the size of small planet. Like Dr. McKay, for example."

With that, he gave the sergeant's arm a friendly pat – the boy could have been his son, after all, with a slight stretch of imagination – and waltzed out of the mess hall.

~The End~


End file.
